


No I Don't Have a Gun

by romanticalgirl



Series: Bullet in the Barrel (of Your Best Guy's Gun) [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Assassin Bucky Barnes, Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers, Series, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25460083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: Sure, assassins have days off, but that doesn't mean Bucky doesn't still need Steve's help.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Bullet in the Barrel (of Your Best Guy's Gun) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584283
Comments: 39
Kudos: 149





	No I Don't Have a Gun

***

“Rogers.”

“So, I need your help.”

Steve glances at the number on his phone before closing his eyes and exhaling slowly. “There is no way I can help with your line of work just because you need to take a sick day.”

“You’re funny. You’re a funny guy.”

“I’m not joking.”

“Trust me, I would never ask. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I could do a good job!” Steve realizes what he says immediately after he says it. He makes an annoyed noise at Bucky’s chuckle. “Shut up. I would. If I did that sort of thing. Which I don’t.”

“You’d be a disaster.” Bucky doesn’t say it harshly, just as if it was truth. “You have morals. Which is why I call you.”

“You have morals too, otherwise you wouldn’t call me.”

“Which you wish I wouldn’t.”

“Accessory is not just a complementary pair of earrings.”

“I haven’t worn an earring for at least a decade.”

Steve groans and rests his forehead on the wall. Or bangs it against it. It’s a fine line. “Don’t you have friends? Like, an assassin’s guild. That can’t just be in D&D. There’s probably a union.”

“There’s not a union.”

“Ha. You didn’t deny a guild. There’s a guild.” It’s definitely banging his head. And he’s pretty sure Bucky’s laughing at him. “Please tell me there’s a guild.”

“There’s not a guild. By virtue of the job, we tend to be loners. Not a lot of chit-chatting going on in a sniper’s nest. It’s more the whole silent and deadly.”

Steve sighs, doing his best to ignore being disappointed that there’s not a guild. Sam’s weekly D&D sessions have led him astray. “Okay, Okay. I’ll bite. What do you need help with?”

“I need to buy a present for my mom.”

Steve’s pretty sure he could weigh the silence and it would be heavier than he is. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Assassins know people with birthdays. Despite popular belief, we’re not birthed from the ocean like Aphrodite.”

“Did you know that the sea foam was supposedly semen from Uranus’s severed genitals that his son tossed into the sea? Talk about a bad father/son relationship.”

“I…” Bucky takes a deep breath and holds it before letting it out in a long, measured exhale. “So. I need to buy a gift.”

“Right. Um. What sort of thing are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. A mom gift. If I knew I wouldn’t be asking you for advice. You had a mother. You probably bought her gifts.”

“Well, yeah. But I _knew_ my mom.”

“Well, I’m not bringing you home for dinner.” Bucky huffs. “I don’t need to hear that conversation ever again in my life. ‘Oh, Bucky. You brought a nice young man home. What’s your name, dear? How long have you been dating my son? Did you meet him through work? How do you feel about marriage? Family? Children? Are you Jewish?’” This time Bucky shivers audibly. “She didn’t even pause to let him speak. He didn’t even make it to dessert.”

“Wow.”

“Well, I don’t date a lot. Most people are a little put off by my job.”

“Well, yes. Because you’re an assassin for hire.”

“That’s like saying I’m a cook who works in a kitchen. All assassins are for hire. Some of them are just hired consistently by the same company.”

“Does that mean I’m a political cartoonist for hire?”

“Everybody’s for hire. Not everyone’s for sale.” Bucky clears his throat. “So. Are you going to help me with this gift?”

“First a conscience and then shopping advice. I don’t know, Barnes. Pretty soon I’m going to want a cut.”

“Really?” Bucky draws out the word.

“Okay, no. That’s… No. Okay. Where?”

“You know Above Ground/Below Ground?”

“Coffee bar, actual bar? Yeah.”

“Meet me there in an hour.”

“Should I wear a trench coat or anything?”

“I’m an assassin, not a spy. And, unless you’ve decided to start flashing people, no.”

Steve snorts a laugh. “Just for that, you’re buying the coffee.”

**

Bucky’s sitting in the back of the coffee shop, two cups and a huge muffin in front of him. Steve weaves his way between the tables and settles into the seat across from Bucky. “One of these mine?”

“I wasn’t planning on drinking them both.” 

Steve takes the cup closest and takes a sip, his eyebrows going up. “You got me my usual. How do you know my usual?”

“It’s my job to be observant.”

“Huh. New definition of the word.” 

Bucky kicks Steve’s shin. “Which word? Job or assassin?”

Steve chokes on the piece of muffin he’d torn off and stuck in his mouth. Once he’d coughed it free, he looks at Bucky with wide eyes. “You can’t just say that!”

“You think by saying it someone’s going to automatically assume I am one? This isn’t Occam’s razor here. It’s common denominator. You are really tense. Maybe coffee was a bad idea.”

Just for that, Steve steals the entire muffin, wrapping his hand around the plate so Bucky can’t take any. “Tell me about your mom.”

“She’s my mom. She’s overprotective, bemoans my lack of love life and her lack of grandchildren, works in her garden, hates broccoli but grows it anyway, regularly goes sky-diving, refuses to let us wear socks she doesn’t knit, and she puts about a pound of garlic in every dish.”

“Wow. I… did not expect all of that. I don’t even know how to parse most of it.”

“Oh, also she was dating my dad’s brother but he ended up taking off when she got pregnant, so my dad’s really my uncle, and my uncle’s really my dad. But that’s more about me than her.”

“Okay. I… Please tell me you’re giving me shit.” Bucky’s expression doesn’t change, and Steve blows out a breath. “Okay. Well. Um. So. Garden stuff?” 

“Let’s go to Manhattan.” Bucky stands up, reaches over and tears off a chunk of the muffin. He grins at Steve. “How do you feel about motorcycles?”

**

Steve is pretty sure they’ve walked the entirety of Madison and Lexington Avenues twice each, not to mention through the stores. Steve thinks he’s got an idea of how Bucky works, because he looks at everything, not just perusing but studying. Steve has smelled more perfume and handled more scarves than he thought was possible for any human to do. He’s almost queasy from the mixture of smells, and he finally drags Bucky to a nearby bench to sit down in the fresh – for Manhattan – air. “If you spray anything else in my vicinity, I refuse to take responsibility for what I will do.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth quirks up. “I’m kind of interested in what you might do.”

“I don’t know, but I won’t be responsible and you won’t like it. Whatever it is.” He glares as Bucky actually grins. “I don’t like you.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says with a nod. “You do.”

“Fine. I do. But under duress.”

“Of course.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“So we still need to find a gift?”

“Oh, no.” Bucky pulls a bag from his jacket. “I bought something a couple hours ago.”

“A couple… A coup… _Hours ago_?” He punches Bucky hard in the arm, not even caring that he’s assaulting a world-renown (he assumes, he not up on the ranking) assassin. “Why the hell were we still wandering around stores?”

“I don’t know. It was fun hanging out. Except for that one store where the lady nearly shoved us over to get to that cashmere sweater. Not sure what she thought we were going to do with it, but still.”

“You wanted to hang out with me?” Steve tilts his head and looks at Bucky in confusion for a few moments before starting to smile. “You like me. We’re friends.” He’s kind of awed by the whole situation. “We’re friends.”

“I invited you to help me shop for my mom’s birthday present. Why do you think I did that?” Bucky looks amused and bemused all at once. “I don’t need Jiminy Cricket along for a shopping excursion.”

“What did you call me?” Steve’s eyes narrow and he punches Bucky again. “Did you just… I am not… Ugh. You’re the worst.”

“You’re right.” Bucky sighs dramatically. “So you probably want to just go home instead of joining me for pizza and ice cream.”

“Well… Let’s not be hasty.”


End file.
